As I decided to move out of the flat I’ve been seeking a single room in a houseshare or something similar. Fortunately there are numerous places to look for rooms to rent in Munch that it shouldn’t have been too much of a trial. However, the first room I saw I was virtually barred entry into the flat by the person renting the room. I think he had it in mind that he wanted some fit bird and I didn’t fit that criteria. After all of 5 minutes I left as it was clear I wasn’t the person he wanted to rent his room too.
I later found out that it was a lucky escape as he can be a very domineering person, then again I didn’t particularly want to share with someone who had turned the lounge into his bedroom by using a flimsy curtain hanging off a rope. Yucky! More amusingly, I guess he didn’t find his fit bird as he got in contact a couple of days later apologising that there was some mistake over the dates and was I still interested in the room. The second room was much nicer, nice area of town, nice people, but they decided after some deliberation that I was uncertain how long I wanted to rent the room for so I wasn’t for them. The excuses people come up with, I’d offered to pay the rent until the end of July in one go, how much more certain I could be I’m not sure.
So with the need to move out quickly paramount, I decided to use an agency, something I wanted to avoid because of the commission, but if they could find me a room immediately I decided that paying the extra was worth it.
The next day, after filling in the online form, I was sent particulars for a room in Lehel, with the suggestion to call the landlady as soon as I could to arrange a visit. Which is what I did, I visited the flat the same day and the landlady had the room ready for me to move in there and then. I decided to move in the next day so I could get a bit organised for my move across the Englischer Garten.
So I cycled across the park with my bike panniers and rucksack full into the room in a lovely Altbau house, with high ceilings and lots of stairs with no lift. That will get me fit. My landlady is lovely, though slightly potty.
The stairwell in the building
I’ve been trying to remember, whether at university or in shared flats, if I’ve ever lived with a landlady and I’m pretty sure I haven’t before now. And I don’t know if there is a difference between German and English landladies, but I think I’m pretty lucky. Germany is rule led culture, so before I agreed to the room I checked if there were any rules and to my surprise she said no. Now I’m not sure if she will spring some rules on me in future, but at the moment it’s pretty laid back. I don’t even have to separate the rubbish, which is very common here in Germany and there’s no cleaning rota or anything. My landlady is a 69 year old divorcee, whose husband ran off to Spain with his much younger girlfriend and then was forced to return to Germany to pay his child care. Upon his return he died 6 weeks later, my landlady certainly isn’t reticent about her life story! She then met another man who was the ‘big love’ of her life, but he tragically died falling hundreds of metres down a mountain when climbing. It seems she doesn’t have much luck with men.
Although being a pensioner, she does still work, owning her son’s company (he can’t he’s bankrupt) and selling Christmas ornaments from Poland at the Munich Christmas markets. But she does like to gossip, I know about her family, friends, people who’ve previously rented the rooms, to which my life story (as much as I’m willing to tell) I'm sure will be added to the list.
I’ve also had explained to me all about her magic oil she takes every morning to keep her regular and her various other supplements she has lying on the kitchen counter, I’m still unsure about the one that kills parasites. Although she does speak English, I think she forgets sometimes when she’s talking to me and ends up speaking German, my vocabulary is expanding daily and I’m sure she said parasites. She did ask me to correct her English, but I don’t have the heart to tell her that a thunderstorm is in fact called a thunderstorm and not a thunderbird, it sounds so much nicer.
I’m sure over the next few months, she’ll be telling me lots more stories about her friends and their families, she’s better than a soap on TV. I guess I’m lucky I found a friendly landlady, one who smiles a lot too, a rare thing in Germany…
I later found out that it was a lucky escape as he can be a very domineering person, then again I didn’t particularly want to share with someone who had turned the lounge into his bedroom by using a flimsy curtain hanging off a rope. Yucky! More amusingly, I guess he didn’t find his fit bird as he got in contact a couple of days later apologising that there was some mistake over the dates and was I still interested in the room. The second room was much nicer, nice area of town, nice people, but they decided after some deliberation that I was uncertain how long I wanted to rent the room for so I wasn’t for them. The excuses people come up with, I’d offered to pay the rent until the end of July in one go, how much more certain I could be I’m not sure.
So with the need to move out quickly paramount, I decided to use an agency, something I wanted to avoid because of the commission, but if they could find me a room immediately I decided that paying the extra was worth it.
The next day, after filling in the online form, I was sent particulars for a room in Lehel, with the suggestion to call the landlady as soon as I could to arrange a visit. Which is what I did, I visited the flat the same day and the landlady had the room ready for me to move in there and then. I decided to move in the next day so I could get a bit organised for my move across the Englischer Garten.
So I cycled across the park with my bike panniers and rucksack full into the room in a lovely Altbau house, with high ceilings and lots of stairs with no lift. That will get me fit. My landlady is lovely, though slightly potty.
The stairwell in the buildingI’ve been trying to remember, whether at university or in shared flats, if I’ve ever lived with a landlady and I’m pretty sure I haven’t before now. And I don’t know if there is a difference between German and English landladies, but I think I’m pretty lucky. Germany is rule led culture, so before I agreed to the room I checked if there were any rules and to my surprise she said no. Now I’m not sure if she will spring some rules on me in future, but at the moment it’s pretty laid back. I don’t even have to separate the rubbish, which is very common here in Germany and there’s no cleaning rota or anything. My landlady is a 69 year old divorcee, whose husband ran off to Spain with his much younger girlfriend and then was forced to return to Germany to pay his child care. Upon his return he died 6 weeks later, my landlady certainly isn’t reticent about her life story! She then met another man who was the ‘big love’ of her life, but he tragically died falling hundreds of metres down a mountain when climbing. It seems she doesn’t have much luck with men.
Although being a pensioner, she does still work, owning her son’s company (he can’t he’s bankrupt) and selling Christmas ornaments from Poland at the Munich Christmas markets. But she does like to gossip, I know about her family, friends, people who’ve previously rented the rooms, to which my life story (as much as I’m willing to tell) I'm sure will be added to the list.
I’ve also had explained to me all about her magic oil she takes every morning to keep her regular and her various other supplements she has lying on the kitchen counter, I’m still unsure about the one that kills parasites. Although she does speak English, I think she forgets sometimes when she’s talking to me and ends up speaking German, my vocabulary is expanding daily and I’m sure she said parasites. She did ask me to correct her English, but I don’t have the heart to tell her that a thunderstorm is in fact called a thunderstorm and not a thunderbird, it sounds so much nicer.
I’m sure over the next few months, she’ll be telling me lots more stories about her friends and their families, she’s better than a soap on TV. I guess I’m lucky I found a friendly landlady, one who smiles a lot too, a rare thing in Germany…
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